


Present Imperfect

by elrhiarhodan



Series: The Wonder(ful) Years Verse [33]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Clothes Porn, Established Relationship, M/M, Slash, wonder(ful) years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9289139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: Set a few months after Peter and Neal get married, Peter enjoys a private moment observing his husband when he is less than sartorially perfect.  It's a pity that they are stuck on an Amtrak train from Washington and he can do nothing about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the eighth night of Fic-Can-Ukah, for [](http://sherylyn.livejournal.com/profile)[sherylyn](http://sherylyn.livejournal.com/), who asked me for Peter/Neal, for the prompt "His button was undone". While Sherylyn didn't specify any particular 'verse, somehow I don't think she'll mind a little Wonder(ful) Years schmoop.

One would think, after more than thirty years together, Peter would have become somewhat immune to Neal's charms. Conventional wisdom (and biology) should have dictated that at fifty, his body would be slower to react to the most innocent of stimuli. But no, Peter could still be unbearably aroused by something as simply as an undone collar button.

And it was ridiculous. They were on a train back from Washington, D.C., filled with people and there was nothing Peter could do about it.

They'd just spent three days in a series of seminars. Peter had presented on tracking terrorists through bank accounts and Neal on the tax implications of art fraud. Both talks went well - no one fell asleep, there were some decent questions and lively discussions.

What had been interesting and a little concerning were the looks he and Neal had gotten from the senior administrators as news of their wedding had made its way through the corridors of power. None of the higher-ups had said anything - or at least anything negative - but Peter had the feeling that there were certain people at the very top of the FBI food chain that weren't happy that two senior agents - _male agents_ \- from the same office had married each other.

Neal had noticed the chill, but he was unconcerned. "You have the highest closure and conviction rate in the country. They aren't going to do anything to you."

"Except close the door to a promotion."

Neal had looked at him, brow furrowed. "Do you actually want a promotion? Next step after SAIC is Section Chief. That means D.C., you know. Is that something you want?"

Peter shook his head, "No, not at all. I guess I would just love to have the opportunity to turn down the offer."

Neal understood. "It's always nice to be considered for a job you don't want. Especially if it's a top job."

Peter had noticed that Neal hadn't excluded himself from any fallout. "What about you? Do you think _you'll_ have problems down the line?"

Neal shrugged. "You know how much I love being an FBI agent, but I don't _have_ to be an FBI agent. If my position's eliminated in the next round of budget cuts, I'm not going to be on the unemployment line or begging for handouts."

"Hell no!" Peter laughed. "You don't have to work another day in your life."

"So that makes me dangerous. I could very easily make a claim of discrimination and make the FBI's life very difficult."

That startled Peter. He'd never heard Neal say anything the least bit negative about the Bureau. While Peter had seniority by two years, it had been Neal's dream - since high school - to join the FBI. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine - for now. I've just been thinking about things. The future, you know. You've got your twenty, I'm almost there - even if our marriage has no negative implications for our careers, we're going to be pushed out in a couple of years anyway."

"Mandatory retirement." Peter hated the idea and while there were agents who were deemed too valuable to let go at fifty-seven, Peter didn't think that either of them qualified for that extraordinary consideration - despite their successful records.

"But for now, let's enjoy what we've got. Good cases, decent bosses, excellent staff."

Peter had agreed and forced himself to forget the odd coldness he'd felt from the top brass. But the memory of the chilly reception from several deputy directors wormed its way back into Peter's brain on the train ride back to Manhattan.

So instead, he focused on Neal and on his husband's slight sartorial disorder. The suit Neal had on was relatively new - Armani, and cut tight across the chest and shoulders, emphasizing Neal's lean strength. The shirt was snow white and still crisp, despite a full day of meetings. Neal's only concession to comfort was the loosened tie and the open collar button.

For thirty-plus years, Peter had been cataloging all of his favorite parts of Neal's body. He could spend one day each and every week obsessing about Neal's hands, his feet, his chest, and his ass. Not to mention Neal's beautiful cock.

But there was one part of Neal's body that could drive him to madness at the most unlikely of moments. The hollow at the base of Neal's throat.

It actually had an anatomical name - the suprasternal notch.

It was funny, but Peter didn't get all hot and bothered by that spot of skin and muscle when they were home and casual, or when they were naked and sweaty.

No, it was only in times like this, when Neal was otherwise perfectly put together, but revealing that vulnerable point, that Peter found himself incredibly aroused. There was a frequent clue in the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle - "not quite put together" - and the answer was _deshabille_. The first time he'd encountered the word - maybe thirty-five years ago - Peter had looked it up. Apparently it had a sexual connotation - that men would get aroused by seeing a woman partially dressed.

At the time, he hadn't understood it. Yeah, he got the allure of underwear models (even if they really did nothing for him), but the concept of getting sexually stimulated by a bra strap escaped him.

Now, though, he understood. It wasn't about seeing a bit of underwear, or someone sloppily dressed, but the reaction when someone was perfectly attired, but had one thing askew, undone - like Neal's collar button.

Neal was dozing and he swallowed and Peter felt his brain buzz with need. But there was nothing he could do about it. Once upon a time, he and Neal had been risk junkies, sneaking into the FBI file room for some afternoon delight, or indulging themselves after hours in the conference room or Peter's office or the men's room. But that thrill had worn off as they both reconciled themselves to a relatively staid middle age.

And frankly, the bathroom on the train was disgusting and impossibly tiny - worse than an airplane. There was no way he and Neal were doing anything the least bit kinky until they got home.

"What _are_ you thinking?" Neal opened his eyes and gave Peter a very suggestive smile.

"Nothing." Peter muttered and crossed his legs, grateful that no one was sitting next to them.

"Oh, I don't think _that's_ nothing." Neal tapped Peter's leg with the toe of his shoe.

"This isn't the time or the place, Neal."

Neal sighed and crossed his own legs. "I know. Pity that the bathrooms on the train are so revolting."

Peter wasn't surprised that Neal read his mind. They'd been together for too many years not to have that level of communication between them. "We're just past Trenton, we'll be in New York within the half-hour, we'll be home in an hour. It'll keep."

Neal swallowed again and licked his lips - not in an attempt to be seductive - but to soothe the dryness from sleep. And yet Peter's arousal continued to simmer. He had about a half-hour to enjoy Neal's deshabille. Once the train pulled into Penn Station, Neal would redo that button and fix his tie.

And Peter planned to make the most of the time, even if it was all just in his head.

__

FIN

  



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